In the lower part of the
park a jeep is careering round the asphalt path which surrounds the field where
the tennis courts are situated.

It is packed with students:
the same students who had been collecting money on the previous morning in the
centre of London.

The jeep lurches along.

The students – some hanging
on for dear life – are yelling and banging their collection tins on the body of
the jeep, and the noise is deafening.

Camera moves back in front
of the speeding jeep.

Camera follows the jeep as
it roars along behind the tennis court wire-netting.

THOMAS comes down the steps
from the meadow and sees the jeep as it careers along the path below him.

Camera follows the jeep as
it speeds away to the far end of meadow.

THOMAS walks forward along
the path, watching the students in the jeep.

The jeep drives behind the
tennis court along the path immediately below the row of white painted houses.

THOMAS walks on over the grass
as the jeep returns, the students shouting as they approach.

Camera moves with the jeep
as it pulls up in front of the entrance to one of the tennis courts.

The students get out, and
two of them, a boy and a girl, take over one of the courts, while the others
spread out along the wire-netting on the near side of the court.

The students look like
clowns – they are dressed in bizarre clothes and their faces are covered with
white powder.

The boy on the court is
wearing dungarees, and the girl wears a striped dress over black tights.

They pick up balls and
bounce them on their tennis racquets as they move to either end of the court
and begin the game.

That is to say, they mime
the actions and gestures appropriate to the game.

In reality they have neither
racquets nor balls.

However, the imaginary game
gets under way, with the two players rushing around the court with convincing
vigour and tenacity, but without uttering a sound.

The boy plays a forehand
stroke to the girl, then runs in to take her return.

But he misses the ball and
gestures angrily.

Meanwhile THOMAS has moved
up close to one of the corners of the court at the girl’s end.

He leans against the
wire-netting and watches.

The players run about to hit
the non-existent ball, forehands following backhands in quick succession.

They even miss their shots
sometimes, scolding themselves and looking mortified when they do.

All of this seen from
THOMAS’s viewpoint.

Their friends, who are
watching outside the court, follow the game with well-simulated interest,
moving their heads rhythmically, as thought following the ball from one side of
the net to the other.

Left, right.

Left, right.

They stand in complete
silence.

Three of the students watch
silently: left, right; left, right.

A girl in a bowler hat with
white spots painted on it peers through the netting, her eyes moving steadily
right to left, left to right, following an imaginary rally.

Another girl looks through
the netting towards the right.

Camera follows the girl
playing as she runs back and ‘hits’ the ball.

The boy runs forward and
returns the shot vigorously.

Some of the students jump
back as if the imaginary ball has hit the netting forcefully in front of them.

The boy runs off to the
right after the ball.

Close-up of THOMAS watching
the game.

He smiles slightly.

At this point the girl
misses a shot and the imaginary ball hits the back netting near THOMAS.

She runs over and picks up
the ball, camera following her movements.

She glances at THOMAS with a
shrug, as if to say: ‘I missed it – it happens to us all.’

She stands in the
foreground, watched by THOMAS outside the netting.

Then she hurries away and
THOMAS smiles: he is starting to enjoy the game.

Things are becoming more
exciting as the players start alternating smashes and volleys.

The girl serves – camera
follows the arc of the ball over the net to the boy, and then back; she returns
with a high lob, and camera moves up and down to indicate its path.

The boy smashes it back.

Close-up of the girl playing
a stoke.

The boy returns the shot.

She hits it back and the boy
in the foreground starts to run backwards to return it.

In close-up the boy steps
back a bit more and returns the ball with a smash.

Camera pans down as the girl
stretches out to return it.

The girl runs backwards,
grinning.

She has won a point.

The other students watch the
exciting rally, waving and cheering, but still without making a sound.

We see the game form
THOMAS’s end of the court.

He stands watching at the
corner, leaning on the netting.

Suddenly the boy hits the
ball so hard it goes right over the back netting and ends up on the grass
outside.

The girl runs to the back of
the court and she and THOMAS unconsciously raise their eyes and follow the
flight of the ball.

Camera follows the imaginary
arc of the ball as it hits the grass outside the court, rolls a little across
the blank, empty green, and then stops.

The girl looks at THOMAS
imploringly, begging him with her expression to go and pick up the ball.

As he hesitates and seems a
little perplexed, she encourages him further by waving and gesturing with her
hands.

At the far end of the court
all the other students stand watching as he moves off, slowly at first.

The students look towards
him expectantly, all leaning away from the netting and holding on with one
hand.

THOMAS runs towards the
point where everyone saw the non-existent ball hit the grass, some way from the
court.

He drops his camera and
bends down.

THOMAS picks up the
imaginary ball, tosses it up and down in his hand two or three times, and then
runs forwards and hurls it back into the tennis court, watching its path
through the air with his eyes.

Then he stands watching the
game again, his head moving imperceptibly in time with the movements of the
ball.

He smiles again, ever so
slightly.

He is earnest, inscrutable,
concentrating on something which is not there.

He is very pale.

Really not so different from
the white-faced strangers in the park.

And very slowly the shots
themselves begin to be heard, above the rustling of the wind in the leaves,
until they can be recognised as the typical sounds of a tennis ball hitting
racquet strings.

One on this side, one on
that side, one on this side, one on that side.

Toc, toc.

Toc, toc.

As the sounds become clear,
THOMAS lowers his eyes.

Seen from high above, THOMAS
is a tiny, solitary figure standing in a huge expanse of grass.

He is serious, worried.

He turns towards the right,
then turns away and picks up his camera, glancing back in the direction of the
tennis court.

Then he turns and faces it
again.

Music comes in over.

But actually he is not
looking at anything.

His eyes belong to someone
who is following his own thoughts and is not sure if they are anguished or
encouraging.